


Showing Solidarity

by withoutaname



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Brother/Sister Incest, Cunnilingus, F/M, First Time, Incest, Oral Sex, Sex, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 18:08:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13529748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withoutaname/pseuds/withoutaname
Summary: Stana walks in on her brother watching For Lovers Only, and being turned on by it.





	Showing Solidarity

**Author's Note:**

> This was written a few years ago and idk if we know anything new about Stana's siblings, but when I wrote it, only Dusan had both a name and a face, and I only knew the names of two others (Marko and Theodore) with the last being a complete mystery, so I couldn't decide which brother this was about. Pick your fave I guess. Also Chris = Christina, Stana's sister.
> 
> (Also, I feel totally dirty writing this, but fuck if it isn't really hot, because of reasons lol)

Stana flipped through her keys, quickly finding the one she was looking for and sliding it into the lock. "Hey," she called into the apartment as she stepped inside, toeing off her shoes and hanging her light jacket in the closet. The lack of answer to her greeting piqued her curiosity, and she padded further in, her footsteps silent on the carpeted floor. A familiar voice sounded from the living room, and her eyebrow quirked. "Whatcha watchin'?" she asked, leaning against the back of the couch and studying the television. Her own face stared back at her in black and white, dark hair and bare pale skin.

"Chris was complaining that Tumblr exploded with your nipples," her brother replied, "so I felt that a rewatch was in order."

She blinked down at him. "Of my nipples?"

"Don't worry, you missed my enjoyment of Selma Blair's."

Rolling her eyes, Stana pushed off from the couch and rounded it, plopping down on the cushions — and her brother's legs, drawing a grunt from him. "So is this movie marathon limited to those displaying my assets, or are you showing solidarity in a more broad spectrum?"

"Assets only, so far," her brother answered easily. "Later, who knows?"

"You're very strange," she pointed out, leaning against the arm of the couch and propping her head up with one hand.

"Because I can look at you objectively?"

"Yes!" Stana laughed, grabbing a pillow and smacking him with it. "Because you, my brother, can watch — and **appreciate** — a movie where I, your sister, am topless. In a sex scene."

"Moaning and swearing and everything," he added. "It's pretty hot."

"See? That, right there. That's weird."

He snorted but didn't respond, focusing again on the screen, where Sofia and Yves were alternating between a bike ride and a road trip. And where his sister's hand was sliding into her pants, her body curling in on herself. A moment later and he was watching her take a man's finger into her mouth, licking and sucking. He shifted at the reactionary tightening in his groin, briefly cursing his sister's decision to come over for a visit. The erection he'd had from the sex scene had gone down when he'd realized she'd shown up, but the arousal hadn't been dealt with, and returned two-fold.

Stana eyed her brother when his squirming jostled her. She was about to ask him what his problem was, when her gaze drifted lower, catching on the visible movement in his pants. She opened her mouth to speak, then decided against it, not knowing what to say. She watched the screen as she bent over Mark's lap. She heard her brother's breath catch at the implication. Her brow furrowed, wondering at his reactions to the on-screen version of her. Was it simply that he'd been too long without a girlfriend? It **had** been a while since his last relationship had ended. And yet, it seemed strange, even then, for a man to have such a visceral reaction to his sister.

"You know," Stana started, once she saw that her brother's erection had subsided, "someone actually asked me once if I sound like this," she nodded to the TV, "when I have sex. And then asked me if I've ever actually given road head."

There was another visible twitch at her brother's groin, although his voice was casual as he replied, "Yeah? What'd you tell them."

"That it was none of their business. What I do and what I sound like is between me and whoever shares my bed."

"Lucky on all counts." The words were muttered under his breath, but Stana heard them regardless.

She hummed, and they watched the movie in silence for a few more moments before she finally asked, "How long are we going to pretend that watching me doesn't make you hard?"

He tensed, turning wide eyes to her, his mouth falling open. "I-I wasn't..."

Turning, Stana gave him a look. "Yes you were," she countered easily. "You were hard when I got here, and you got hard again at the next sexy scene, and again when I mentioned sex. So either it's been so fucking long since you've gotten laid that everything turns you on, or it's just me. So." She shifted into her knees, facing him, and placed her hands next to his hips, leaning over his body. "The question is... which is it? Desperation? Or just me?"

His breath blew out in a loud rush, and Stana openly looked down as he hardened — again. "It..." he trailed off and swallowed hard before admitting, "You."

She smiled a little, just one corner of her mouth tilting up. "That wasn't hard to admit, was it? Tell me, if I hadn't come here, would you have gotten off watching the movie?"

His Adam's apple bobbed, but he looked too... something... to answer. Stunned or afraid or overwhelmed. She couldn't tell which. Maybe all three.

"Do you think about me, little brother? Or do you only indulge when the movie gives you an excuse?" She watched his eyes cut to the side guiltily, and her little grin widened. "Do you think about me touching you? Or you touching me?" Biting her lip and letting the soft skin slide between her teeth to freedom, she lowered her voice, asking, "Do you think about fucking me?"

He moaned then, a helpless little sound, and his hips twitched at her words.

"How do you think about me?" She rolled her body forward briefly, her stomach brushing against the hard bulge in his jeans.

"Stana," he said, his voice choked with need, hips arching up to follow her body's retreat.

"Uh-uh," she murmured, pressing one hand to his thigh and pushing him down. "Answer my question."

"What—" he swallowed hard, "what was the question?"

She chuckled then, feeling a little high from the obvious power she had. "How do you think about me," she repeated, watching him and waiting.

"Uh..." He wet his lips and focused eyes hazy with desire on her. "I think about touching you. Making you come on my fingers and mouth." Her own hips jerked a little. "Spreading you wide and filling you up. Taking you from behind. Laying back and watching you above me. Fuck, I think about it all."

She moaned then, and her body disobeyed her conscious decision to tease him further and pressed firmly against him, sliding up his body, one arm supporting her weight while her other hand tangled into his hair, her lips finding his. "Do it," she murmured into his mouth. "Fuck me."

He pulled back, looking at her, his gaze serious. "Are you sure?" he whispered. "That's not something we can come back from."

"I don't want to come back from it," Stana whispered back, meeting his gaze without hesitation. "Make me yours."

"Oh god," he groaned, wrapping his arms around her and standing, pulling her up with him. He drew her tightly against his body, walking her backwards toward his bedroom, not stopping until her legs hit the bed and she toppled over onto the mattress. He reached down, his fingers curling into the waistband of her jeans, pulling the button fly open and sliding the pants down her legs, taking her socks with them and dropping them in a pile on the floor. Her shirt was next, tugged over her head, leaving her on his bed in a simple black bra and purple cotton panties. "You're sure?" he asked again, his gaze moving over her, memorizing her body.

"Stop asking me," she told him, sitting up and sliding the palm of one hand firmly over his denim-covered erection. "I want this."

He choked out a groan, thrusting helplessly into her hand, and she grinned. Bringing her hands up, Stana popped the button of his jeans and drew the zipper down, curled her fingers into the waistband of both jeans and boxers, and pulled them to the floor, leaving them in a bunch around his feet. She immediately reached up again, wrapping one hand around his shaft and drawing a groan from deep in his chest.

"How often have you thought about this?" she wondered, leaning forward and sliding her cheek along his length, looking up at him.

He breathed out a shaky "haaaahhh..." and then swallowed hard. "A lot," he admitted.

"Mmm, yeah?" She turned her head and trailed the tip of her nose over him. "Do you want my mouth on you?"

"Oh god... St—yes. Please."

"How badly do you want it?" She tilted his erection up with her hand and slid her nose up the underside, brushing side to side over his frenulum.

"Fuck you're evil," he groaned, his fingers curling into fists, one hand reaching forward to brush her arm with his knuckles.

"Tell me," she urged, breathing hotly over his tip, causing his hips to jerk toward her.

"I want it more than anything," he said quickly, biting his lip. "Come on, Stana, please."

She hummed and loosely pursed her lips, pressing them against him in an intimate kiss. He blew out a hard breath, and she parted her lips, wrapping them around him and taking the head of his erection into her mouth. She swirled her tongue around the tip, then pressed it against the slit at the end, looking up at him as a curse fell from his mouth.

After a moment, he tilted his head down, and their eyes met, both dilated with arousal. She moaned around him, and slid her mouth further down his length, licking the underside as she went. She sucked hard when she drew back, her cheeks hollowing.

"Oh, fff— _uck_ ," he groaned, one hand coming up to wrap in her hair, neither directing her nor keeping her in place, simply holding on.

Stana hummed quietly and began to slide her fist over his length, sucking in rhythm. She could feel him swelling further, hardening under her ministrations, and she sped up, flicking her tongue over him as she sucked.

"Stop, stop, stop," he gasped, pulling on her hair. She resisted, pressing forward despite the slight pain from his hands in her hair. She wanted him, with a suddenly voracious appetite. "Stana, stop," he pleaded, tugging again. "You're going to make me come, and I would really rather be inside you when I do."

Finally leaning back, Stana pulled in a lungful of air, looking up at her brother. "Okay," she agreed, a little breathlessly. "I want that, too."

He grinned and stepped out of his jeans, pulling his shirt over his head and leaving him naked, before he reached for his sister, deftly undoing the clasp of her bra and drawing the straps down her arms. His mouth went dry. It was one thing to catch tiny glimpses in movies, but something else entirely to have her bare-breasted before him. His fingers twitched, and he realized with a start that he was, in fact, allowed to touch. Tentatively, he brushed his hands over her hips, skimming over the band of cotton, single-minded in his desire to feel her. His large hands dwarfed her breasts, and she moaned as his palms slid over her pert nipples.

"God, you're so beautiful," he sighed, stepping forward and bringing his knees up onto the bed, straddling her thighs and pushing her to lie back.

She smiled up at him softly and arched her back, pressing into his hands. "Touch me," she whispered.

His lips quirked up at one corner, and he cupped her breasts, sliding his thumbs over her nipples. She gasped, her eyelids fluttering, and he repeated the motion, flicking back and forth. As he teased her, she began to squirm beneath him and her fingers curled and flexed against the blankets before reaching for him, her smooth palm sliding over his erection again. "Uh-uh," he groaned, backing up off and bed and out of her reach. He drew his hands back down to her hips, hooking his thumbs under the band of her panties and pulling them down. "God." He swallowed hard at the sight of her.

Biting her lip, she grinned at him, a little triumphant, a little shy. "Yeah?" she asked, slowly parting her thighs to him.

He choked slightly and slipped to his knees beside the bed, his hands sliding up the insides of her thighs, coaxing them further apart. "Yeah," he said hoarsely, his gaze caught on her slick folds. "Holy shit, you're wet." He trailed one finger over her, wetness clinging to the tip.

She cried out softly, her hips jerking up at the touch. "I'm... really, _really_ turned on," she pointed out on a breathless chuckle.

"Yeah, I can see that." He leaned forward, her thighs shifting further apart to accommodate his shoulders, and laid one arm across her hips. With his free hand, he carefully parted her, watching as he dipped one fingertip into her entrance.

Hips straining under his arm, Stana choked out a short string of profanity, her fingers tightly gripping the bedding. When his finger moved up to brush ever-so-lightly back and forth over her clit, her head spun, and when she opened her eyes to look down at him, her vision was fuzzy. "Don't tease me," she whimpered.

"But it's fun," he said lightly, slipping back down and pressing his index finger into her, savoring the wet heat and smooth muscles in a way he wouldn't be able to later on when he would be distracted by his own pleasure.

Panting lightly, she untangled one hand from the blankets, reaching down to thread her fingers through his hair, encouraging and pleading and punishing just a little as she pulled on the thick strands.

He took the hint, leaning forward and pressing his mouth over her, his lips framing her clit. The moan she let out was tortured, and when he finally pressed his tongue to her, her sharp gasp and shuddering hips showed her appreciation. The taste of her made him groan, and he licked a long caress before flicking rapidly over the tip. He alternated the rhythm with sucking kisses, his finger stroking and curling inside her.

"Oh fuck, don't stop," she gasped, biting her lip and shifting her hips against him, as much as she could. Her other hand joined the first in his hair, holding him in place as she half-commanded, "More..."

Humming against her, and drawing another gasp, he pulled his finger out, immediately returning with two and feeling the tightness of her around him. His hips shifted and he pressed into the side of the bed, needing friction.

"Yesss," she sighed, her back bowing, grinding against his hand and mouth.

"Fuck," he swore vehemently, twisting his fingers and sucking and licking with even more enthusiasm. He curled his fingers inside her, making a 'come hither' gesture that had her arching and shuddering almost violently, a breathy cry falling from her lips. Focusing on that spot, he began to flick his tongue rapidly over her clit, drawing a litany of gasps, groans and panting breaths from the woman spread out before him. It wasn't long before her fingers were tightening in his hair, her muscles tensing and body spasming. She pushed his face more firmly against her, and he went willingly, working her with a desperation as she called his name, pulsing around his fingers. He didn't stop until her fingers loosened their death grip on his hair, and only when her hands fell away entirely did he lift his head, wiping her arousal from his skin with a corner of the blanket before gently pulling his fingers from her.

She moaned dizzily, looking at him with hazy eyes as he rose above her.

"You okay?" he asked, smiling down at her, taking in the flush that spread from her chest to her cheeks.

"Yeah," she said, her voice no more than a breath.

He chuckled and slid his arms under her, moving her further up the bed so that her head was resting on a pillow. Stroking one hand down her side, he asked, "Are you still up for more?"

"Mmmm," she hummed, taking a deep breath and stretching luxuriously. "Definitely." She looked at him with hooded eyes. "After all, I can't leave you like that with no relief."

"Glad to hear it." His voice was strained at the reminder of his own persistent arousal.

She trailed one hand down his body, curling her fingers loosely around cock, his hips jerking into her touch. "Poor little brother," she cooed, "you've been so patient."

His chuckle was strained and he pointed out, "That sounded like a line from a porno."

She stuck her tongue out. "Well if you **don't** want me to be nice..." She pulled her hand back, pulling a put-upon expression.

"God, you are **evil**!" He cupped her cheek in one hand and turned her face toward his, leaning in and gently biting her lower lip. "You know how much I want to be inside you," he murmured.

A sliver of something like guilt lanced through her. Yes, she did know. And she knew how badly she wanted him inside her. But something screamed at the back of her head, reminding her that this was her **brother**. In healthy relationships, brothers don't fuck their sisters.

"Hey." His voice was soft as he looked down at her, propped up on one elbow. "Where did you go?"

"What are we doing?" she whispered, biting her lip.

"We're..." His brow furrowed slightly, before he answered, completely honestly, "I don't know."

She swallowed, shifted her eyes to the ceiling. "I know this is wrong. In my head, I know that this is... sick and twisted and unhealthy." She saw him flinch out of the corner of her eye. "But I just... You're different. I don't want to do this with any of the others." The thought of allowing one of her other brothers to touch her like this sparked a twist of nausea in her stomach. "I used to dream about you, you know. When we were younger. Intellectually, I know this is wrong. But it doesn't **feel** wrong."

"It doesn't have to be wrong," he said, gently tracing the line of her jaw with a fingertip.

"Doesn't it?" Her gaze shifted back to him. "We're siblings. It's illegal, it's _immoral_."

He shifted over her, his eyes blazing suddenly. "No, it's **not**. It's illegal, yes. But it's **not** immoral. I've had this crisis, Stana. I've been here. I've wanted you for years and it freaked the shit outta me. So I did the research. It's only _wrong_ because our current, Christian-based society says it's wrong. There are cultures all over the world, all through history, who have **encouraged** this. There are thousands of people, right now, who have healthy relationships, regardless of how closely they're related." Watching her closely, he stated, "Incest isn't a dirty word."

She nearly winced, but held it back. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because we're not hurting anyone. Because this is between us. Two adults, making the choice to enjoy each others bodies. How can that be wrong?"

Her eyes flicked back and forth between his as she considered his words, rolling them around in her head and letting them seep into her. "You're right," she finally said. "This couldn't be wrong."

He smiled and leaned forward, pressing their lips together. When the kiss drew to a gentle close, he whispered the realization, "I've barely even kissed you."

"You can make up for that," she whispered back, sliding her arms around his shoulders and urging him over her, his hips cradled between her thighs. His arousal had abated somewhat with their conversation, his erection firm, but not as rock hard as it had been.

"Yeah, I can," he agreed, kissing her again, his tongue slipping easily into her mouth, tasting and exploring.

Their kisses deepened and drew out, bodies beginning to shift against each other as their arousal built once again. He hardened between her legs, and she whispered into his mouth, "I want you inside me."

He broke their kiss and stretched away from her, reaching for his nightstand. Her hand on his forearm stopped him, and he looked back at her with confused eyes.

She bit her lip. "I'm on the pill," she told him, her tone almost guarded. "And I'm clean. I'd really like to just feel you."

"I'm clean, too," he replied, voice suddenly hoarse. "Are you sure?"

"Love me," she breathed against his lips, "like two people were meant to love."

He exhaled a shaky breath into her mouth and settled back over her. "I promise," he whispered back.

She trailed a hand down his body, taking him gently in hand and guiding him forward. At the first press of him at her entrance, she drew in a breath. The long, slow slide that followed made her breath catch, and she looked up at him, gazes locked. Her muscles burned at the stretch of accepting him into her body, and once he was fully sheathed, he paused, allowing her time to adjust.

"You feel amazing." His voice was reverent and he looked down at her like she was the most exquisite thing he'd ever seen.

"So do you." She pushed her fingers into his hair, her back arching against him, and he began to move.

The smooth glide of him inside her as he rolled his hips made her moan, and she pulled him back down to her lips. His strokes were soft and rhythmic, the clasp of their lips gentle, heightening the intimacy of the moment. The afternoon sun streamed through the window, but instead of seeming harsh and intrusive, it bathed everything in the room with a golden glow.

A chorus of moans, sighs, and whispers of pleasure began to fill the room, punctuating their love-making. Slowly, they built, becoming louder, faster, until Stana tightened her arms around her brother, crying out beneath him. He followed a moment later, groaning into her shoulder as he spilled into her.

They lay together, panting, as they calmed, he with his face turned into her neck, she with her eyes closed, hands trailing over his back. Finally he rolled them over, drawing her on top of him, hands smoothing over her back as she had done to him. She folded her hands over his upper chest, resting her chin on them and looking at him. He looked back. After a long moment, she gave him a brilliant smile and tucked her head down under his chin.

"That was... I don't have words," she said softly.

"I know." He tilted his head and kissed the top of hers. "Thank you."

"What for?"

"This. Being here. Everything."

She hummed and exhaled a breath, melting into him. "How could I be otherwise?" she asked, kissing his collarbone.

"I don't know. I'm just grateful. For this, for you. I love you."

She smiled contentedly, murmuring back, "I love you, too."


End file.
